


Closeted Lust

by theotherdesanta



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Repression, Self Fucking, dildo, self play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 01:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotherdesanta/pseuds/theotherdesanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the family is away, Michael will work out some extreme sexual frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closeted Lust

**Author's Note:**

> The last repost I'm gonna make since the rest of my work was mainly on Tumblr and that all went down the toilet along with my account *Sigh*. Yet it gives me the chance to evolve and better my skill at writing to give you even more quality fanfiction about these two love bugs. I do admit there is one small piece that I have stored but won't be posting for a while due to the fact I can't look at it for more than two seconds without giggling out of shame. If anyone is interested just drop me a line and with enough encouragement, I might be able to boot myself into posting. And or editing it to the point I can stand to read it without going beet red. More than I do with this fic.  
> As for the piece I was speaking of before, it will be an original character fic about a young man who gets ditched on the side of the road and left to fend for himself. The unholy trio are a big role in his story and hopefully...it won't be as shitty as my other works of fiction.  
> I apologise for having to notify you all in the notes but I don't have any other social media, Leave comments and such if you're interested, or if you just like this fic, which I doubt but you know, *Michael voice trying to be British* Gotta give it the old college try. 
> 
> Enjoy the fic, and thanks for all the support.

He'd made short work of disguising every mirror decorating the couple's shared walk-in wardrobe, throwing quilts and sheets of fine velvet over the glass and bidding his guilt-riddled double farewell. The slats tugged close with a pleasing snap, if anything was going to risk catching the splatter of bodily fluid no shit it would wind up being Amanda's chinchilla fur coat that set the producer back 10K. The curtains drawn and door thoroughly locked tight to refrain being caught during what he dubbed a 'Critical self-help reprieve', Michael dragged shaky fingers along his Gray button down and started slipping the buttons through their loops, gulping when the pleasant breeze admitted from the air conditioning unit touched his exposed chest. He left it on, but struggled to reach low and unzip his pants, the realisation of his actions crashing against the rocks that were his subconscious like a churned ocean, Michael took a sharp exhale and sucked in his belly, puffing to the satisfying shrizz of his fly coming apart. He then let them fall down to the ankles and shook the denim off, the socks were the last thing he removed as Michael braced himself on the head of the chaise longue using the other hand to yank away the fabric. Repressing any further warnings his ego advised he slunk toward the small table where a large, Costco sized bottle of lube stood glistening, the sliver of sunlight peeking between the closed curtains brought a twinkly sheen to the plastic and he rubbed a hand over his face, sighing loudly. How much stupider could it get? He didn't answer that question because frankly, Michael didn't want to fucking know. Scowling, he grabbed it off the table and unscrewed the cap where Michael took a curious sniff. Strawberry, their favourite. Well, Trevor's favourite at least. Sure, he was partial to a slice of cheesecake now and then but Michael's overall preference of treat were butterscotch suckers, god if he could've just smothered T in butterscotch...”Okay...deep breath..do not freak out” He spoke to comfort himself, setting the lube bottle beside him as he perched down on the chaise longue and shifted a little to move a pug patterned cushion which he used as a storage facility for...well, “S'not like it's the real thing, Michael. You just gotta remain calm. Mean c'mon, why else did you order the thing if not to-” he slapped the cushion to the floor and experienced every muscle in his body go rigid at the sight of the ribbed neon orange dildo, seven inches of silicon attached to a stick that controlled the movement and vibrating options. God, what had Mike gotten himself into. “-Oh shit...I-I can't do this. Fucking—why! Why—Okay, just a momentary setback. We can do this. Nothin' different from suckin' on an ice pop....Better fucking taste like one” Hand twitching as he leaned across the seat to grab it, Michael carefully inspected the penis shaped object before gripping the handle as you would a lollipop, the kind you'd find at a carnival that were the size of your fucking head, and closed his eyes. His tongue poked out between dry, thin lips and he inched the two of them closer until-”NOPE! Nah!. Can't do it! All the nope! Nuh uh! Not happenin'. No, thank you!” When tongue met dildo Michael's automatic reject switch flicked on, sending him back and outstretching the toy like it was a burning hot piece of iron (Hah, penis joke). He wiped his mouth on his arm and shivered with disgust. “Fuckin' A, how do people get a kick outta this?” His brain pondered for a minute or two, trying to find some expectable explanation to bring reason to his shaken psyche. “Like what? I just picture T and out of nowhere I'm going at this like a pro?” That wasn't a bad idea actually. Before Michael had just been looking at a piece of orange plastic safe for whatever the fuck it was people wanted to do with them, but giving his imagining room to explore, suddenly the toy wasn't so threatening. “This is some fucked up roleplay if I ever saw it...” He took a breath and closed his eyes a second time, huffing and groaning in displeasure as his mouth and lips touched the head of the dildo, the taste wasn't bad, it had the bland sensation and texture of really shitty rubber, like the breakfasts Amanda used to cook him before he'd dart to a job or manage the prostitution rings. If it had the faint scent of egg, Michael would've been caught reminiscing harder than he already was. “'Aaackk!!!” Persuading himself to go a tad lower on the toy he didn't do the smart thing of setting a pace, choking when the head touched his uvula. “Fuck!” Michael sputtered some before steadying his airways and going back to the task at hand, speaking of hands, the one not holding the dildo wrapped tightly around his own flaccid cock, bringing up a soft moan as he focused on what was in his mouth and what was happening between his legs. Breaking away from sucking the head, Michael put his attention on the sides of the rubber shaft, running his tongue up and down, occasionally slurping when his techie improved. Meanwhile, that little tormentor in his left hand was growing hard, a few drops of precum spurting out the tip as he propped himself on his knees and sat the dildo on the window pane in front of the curtains so nobody would see, but he was able to get a better angle on things. Eventually, Michael was happily stroking himself in tune to rhythmically bobbing his lips over the toy, groaning through each inhale as he neared his peak. “Okay” Michael gasped, having plucked the bottle of lube and abandoned his new friend to dip his reddened digits in the frighteningly oversized container. He laid back, propping his feet on the edge of the chaise longue and spreading his legs wide, one hand gripped his cock while the second moved beneath his swollen balls, a distressed whimper broke free as he pressed two fingers against the small ring of puckered muscle. “Cmon Mike. Don't go chicken on me now” He began by circling the hole, applying as much lube as he possibly could until Michael felt confident adding pressure. The tip of his middle finger penetrated and he chuckled, mentally comparing it to nothing other than a prostate exam at the doctors. Only better. No awkward small talk to break the silence or deafen the medical practitioners curious hums or burn of his dry gloves. No. This...this was good. Michael's head lulled to one side, he cocked a relieved grin at the lack of discomfort as he followed up with a second finger. “Fuuckk...” Curling them together brought on a short-lived twinge of heat somewhere between his cock and his abdomen. Michael tried pulling them out, seconds later placing the lost feeling of having something nudge his prostate and swooning to a burst of rattled nerves and the stretch of his inner walls. He continued on, grunting all the while hoping to replicate each individual twist that had his body craving more and more each fucking time. Ten minutes into his fingering fest and Michael was dizzy on the lust consuming every last ounce of consciousness. “Fuck, Trev” He whined, high and needy. “Awww please” The last sentence came out in a rasp as he dipped his fingers in for the final time “Please, you're killing me here, man” One last curl and the tight pinch of his nipple, Michael was desperate to have all seven inches inside of him. Without any delay he made blind grabs for the toy before succeeding and snatching it off the couch, dunking the length of it into the container of lube. Approving of the thick layer of strawberry flavoured liquid coating the dildo, Michael wriggled his ass further down the seat until he had the perfect position to insert his friend. Not taking onboard the amount of girth on it, he bit back a pained groan as he felt himself being stretched more than the previous session had done, he gripped the base of his dick and gave a few loving pumps that absorbed the fiery sting down below. Moments passed and he was gnawing at his lip again, hips jutting to meet the uneven thrusts he attempted to mimic as Trevors, not that Michael knew that type of shit since he was too repressed to actually fuck the guy, but he did his best to pretend the one violating his virgin asshole was the psychotic bastard he fantasised about more often than not.  
“Haahhh! Right there, T. Awwww—GOD! Cmon, please! Fuck you feel so good, man!” Michael had lost all control on the ninth thrust, his cock leaking without the use of his own fist and his prostate, Jesus, Michael was sure his ass, as well as the rest of him, was going to turn to jelly. “Ahh—ahh. Shit. I—I think I'm gonna cum!” Bracing one hand above his head Michael flipped on the vibrating whirl function on the dildo, slamming the last number of thrusts as his legs feel wide and his body convulsed as he hit his peak in long pale ropes of cum that decorated his stomach as he rode out what, if he could say anything that is, he would've called the best orgasm of his extremely crappy life. “Ooooohhhh Goddddd!!” Slightly over exaggerated butMichael fell against the soft backing of the seat in a post orgasmic haze, legs hitting the ground with a heavy thumb that was more than audible to anyone downstairs, but he didn't fucking care.  
Giving himself a minute to catch his breath, Michael finally reached onto the floor and picked up his discarded underpants, wiping off the mess he turned them inside out and put them back on along with the jeans before unlocking the door and stepping into the bedroom and going to fetch a beer from the kitchen. Just when he neared the bottom of the staircase the front doors swung open, his wife and daughter stepping through and greeting him before running passed and up to their rooms to try on their new dresses. Michael plopped down in front of the television holding the cold beverage, feeling better than he had in years and scheduling a date he'd be free to do it all over again---”MICHAEL! DID YOU LET THAT CREEPY FRIEND OF YOURS IN MY HOUSE?! HE LEFT A DILDO IN OUR BEDROOM—OH MY GOD ITS BEEN USED!” Chugging the drink in one, Michael stood up and got the hell out of there. Not bothering to throw on his shoes as he jumped into his car and peeled onto the street. 

“Fuckin' Trevor” 

The end.


End file.
